n shrine, a bride, to be decked by the holy angels in robes whiter
than mortal ever saw.

Waves of sweet music aroused her. She started up as from a dream,
recognizing at once the touch of the same hand that she had heard in the
distance the night before, and it was coming from their own parlor
window, right beneath hers! She held her breath almost as she stole out
and leaned over the balustrade to peer into the parlor. Why, it was
Arthur! Was it possible he could play like that? She made a striking
picture as she stood there on the stairs, her great grey eyes drinking
in the music: but she was relieved somehow when it ceased. It was
bright, quick, inspiring; but it seemed to make her forget her new-born
joy while it lasted.

CHAPTER III.

_WHITHER, BETH?_

Beth was lying in the hammock, watching the white clouds chase each
other over the sky. Her face was quite unclouded, though the morning had
not passed just as she had hoped. It was the next afternoon after she
had taken tea at the Mayfair's, and Clarence had come to see her father
that morning. They had had a long talk in the study, and Beth had sat in
her room anxiously pulling to pieces the roses that grew at her window.
After a little while she was called down. Clarence was gone, and she
thought her father did not look quite satisfied, though he smiled as she
sat down beside him.

"Beth, I am sorry you are engaged so young," he said gently. "Are you
sure you love him, Beth?"

"Oh, yes, papa, dear. You don't understand," and she put both arms
about his neck. "I am in love, truly. Believe me, I shall be happy."

"Clarence is delicate, too," said her father with a grave look.

They were both silent for a few minutes.

"But, after all, he cannot marry for three or four years to come, and
you must take your college course, Beth."

They were silent again for a moment.

"Well, God bless you, Beth, my darling child." There were tears in his
eyes, and his voice was very gentle. He kissed her and went out to his
office.

What a dear old father he was! Only Beth wished he had looked more
hopeful and enthusiastic over the change in her life. Aunt Prudence had
been told before dinner, and she had taken it in a provokingly quiet
fashion that perplexed Beth. What was the matter with them all? Did they
think Clarence the pale-faced boy that he looked? They were quite
mistaken. Clarence was a man.

So Miss Beth reasoned, and the cloud passed off her brow,